This was bullshit. “Then how come I haven’t heard of this place?” Until I’d gotten the letter from my grandfather, the town of Scorchwood had been an unknown to me.
“Because Scorchwood is the Nightwatch’s best-kept secret,” Jay said. “A ticking time bomb they like to hide away from the big guns that might choose to settle here to leach off the power. So far, clouding its existence has kept the influx of trouble minor.” He took a sip of his tea. “Tedious in its flow but minor. But things have begun to heat up, and we needed more manpower.”
I studied his face. “Clouding? As in the magical removal of a place from people’s memories? That’s a myth.”
He shrugged. “More like a look-away-and-don’t-think-about-this-place spell. Scorchwood is on a need-to-know basis. You find it when you need to know about it.”
“Except for the supes who navigate here to cause trouble.” Kris studied his fingernails.
“Unfortunately, the pull of the ley lines is too strong for certain creatures to be deterred by the clouding around this location,” Jay added.
He was deadly serious. I looked to Henri, my walking GPS. “Had you heard of Scorchwood before I mentioned it?”
Henri frowned. “I don’t know.”
Fuck. Okay, maybe clouding wasn’t a myth.
Jay took another sip of his tea. “There’s been a spate of missing persons over the last month. The police department is at a loss, and Detective Kiran came to us with the problem.”
“I assume she’s your supe contact on the force?”
Jay nodded, and his gaze flicked to the clock above the fireplace.
It was standard procedure to have supes in strategic positions on law enforcement. Without the inside help, we’d be fucked.
“I’ll show you the case files tomorrow and brief you then too, but suffice to say, we need more eyes on the ground. We need to figure out who’s taking these humans and stop them.”
“You’re sure it’s not some serial killer human.”
He shook his head. “Kiran believes that if it was a serial killer, we would have found a body or two by now. Scorchwood isn’t a huge town, and the people are pretty close-knit.”
So, this was a case of a possible supernatural threat that needed identifying. This was familiar, comfortable ground. Maybe my transfer here didn’t have anything to do with the ghosts after all. I did have an excellent case cracking record. The town was uber haunted, but that could be attributable to the ley line situation and nothing more. All that power must be a draw, and the manifestations were probably a side effect. But then the barmaid’s face came to mind, the terror as she’d told me to leave, and then there’d been that other ghost who’d asked for help … It was something I’d have to investigate on my own time.
Jay was watching me intensely. “Kat, the fact you’re here is a testament to your abilities. Scorchwood is no walk in the park. We work hard, and we deal with some crazy shit. If you’re here, it’s because someone at the top thinks you’re the best.”
Kris flicked the cuff on his left wrist with the thumb and index finger of his right hand almost absently. “Or her grandfather has an over-inflated view of her skills,” he drawled, shooting Henri a sideways glance.
Henri’s jaw tensed as he realized his mini-assessment of me could backfire. Ha, shouldn’t have said nasty things about me, should you, metal man?
But there was a teasing smile on the demon’s face. He knew better than to think the Nightwatch would do anything other than send the right body to the right place. The universal glamour we relied on to stay hidden from human eyes was too important to allow personal feelings to get involved.
Henri must have realized this too because he relaxed.
Supes had power, magic and claws and teeth, but we hid from humans because if they found out about us, then it was game over. Their numbers were vast, and they had the technology to wipe us out.
I’d asked Gramps once why we couldn’t just tell the humans about the thinnings and the monsters and the fact that we worked every day to protect their mortality. He’d smiled sadly and patted my shoulder and said because history shows that fear overcomes logic. Humans will fear us, and they will seek to eliminate that which they fear, and in doing so, they will lead to their own extinction. So, we hid, and we protected, and we hoped that the glamour never failed.
I dropped the empty blood bag on the tray and stood. Tris immediately wound her way up my leg and lay across my shoulders, her tail curled around my bicep. It was her go-to position when we were in motion.
I canted my head. “How about a tour?”
Jay nodded. “Mai will do the honors.”
Kris flashed his teeth. “Jay knows better than to trust me around the ladies. I’m just way too charming.”
“You’re definitely way too something,” Mai retorted.
Kris stood and stretched his lithe form, his hair spilled down his back in an inky sheet for a moment, and when he was done showcasing his abs, he padded out of the room.
Wait, had he been barefoot all along?
Mai shook her head. “He has sensory issues,” she said. “Hates shoes. He’s also likely to try and get into your knickers, so be warned.”
It had been a while since anyone had been in my knickers aside from me, and the thought gave me a cheap thrill.
Jay drained his cup of tea and placed it back on his tray. “Mai will show you around and get you settled in your rooms. If you need anything, just pull the rope in your room, and Emmet will cater to you.”
“Because he knows exactly what I need?”
Jay gave me a close-lipped smile. “Tomorrow night, we hunt.” He glanced at the clock again and then left the room.
Mai watched him go with a frown.
“He seemed agitated,” Henri said.
She smiled. “Jay doesn’t get agitated. Come. I’ll show you the mansion.”
Actually. I placed a hand on her arm to stall her. “I’d like to see the prison.”
Her smile was all twinkle-eyed and warm. “Yes, you and I are going to get on just fine.”
She slipped her arm through Henri’s. “Come on, handsome, let’s take the Scorchwood tour.”
I followed the pair out of the room. “You do realize he’s a golem, right?”
“A golem with a dick of steel,” Tris said snidely.
Oh, man …
Chapter Three
Mai led us down the corridor that curved around the stairs to the back of the mansion. She pushed open a set of doors and then took a left and stopped at a wall. A glowing amber button was set in the dark wood. She pressed it, and the wood slid out of the way to reveal a set of stone steps.
“Please, tell me this isn’t the only way down?” Tris said.
Mai laughed. “No. This is our inside access. We bring the prisoners in via a tunnel which can be accessed off the property. They don’t get to see where they’re going, and they never get to see the mansion.”
Made sense. It was how Ravensheart did things too. It was best to keep the prison locations secret from the inmates, just in case they got loose and then decided to come back for revenge or some crazy shit like that. Some of the creatures held at Ravensheart made my skin crawl, and the thought of meeting them outside of a cell once I’d been responsible for putting them there made my hackles rise in dread.
Mai grabbed a lantern from a nook in the wall and lit it. “Follow me.”
We began to descend into darkness with the lantern as the only source of light. “I assume the pickup for other prisons is done via the outer exit too?”
“You assume correctly,” Mai said cheerfully. “Like Jay said, we’re empty right now. We just had a pickup.”
“All the prisoners?”
“We were holding ten, and yes. All of them.”
“And your capacity is?”
“Ooh, wanting all the information, I see. We have thirty holding cells.”
That didn’t make sense. “So, why purge now?”
“And?”
“He changed the subject. I can only assume he’s foreseen something.”
Foreseen … as in things were heating up? Whatever that meant. “Wait, Jay’s a Cassandra?”
She snorted. “Whatever you do, do not call him that to his face.”
“Who is Cassandra?” Henri asked.
“Not who, what,” Tris said. “It’s a nickname for someone who can see glimpses of the future,” Tris educated him. “You know, like Cassandra of Troy, who was cursed to tell prophecies that no one believed.”
“No,” Henri said. “I don’t know.”
“Well, she was.” Tris huffed, as if this gap in his knowledge was a personal affront to her.
“He doesn’t like to tell us what he sees, though,” Mai said stiffly. “And he doesn’t control when and if he sees something.”
A prophet that didn’t chat about his visions was like fish without chips. Intriguing. “Why not share the knowledge? Seems like a pretty useful skill to have.”
“You’ll have to ask him that.” Once again, her tone was curt.
Okay, now I was super curious. “You haven’t asked?”
“Oh, I have, he just never answers.”
Well, there went my bubble. If he didn’t deign to answer her, then what hope did I have?
We reached the bottom of the steps, boots clipping on flagstones. They certainly had the creepy castle dungeon vibe going. There was a dead-end before us, a reinforced wooden door to our left and another to the right. Mai strode to the right, grabbed an iron key off the hook on the wall, and unlocked the door with a scrape.
She pushed it open with an elaborate flourish of her hands. “Ta da.”
Cream walls and neat cells with impervious glass fronts greeted us. Each cell had a single bunk, a sink, and a toilet. There would be slots to feed the inmates that opened in the glass. I knew this setup. It was the same at Ravensheart. Darn it.
Mai chuckled. “You were expecting old-style dungeon décor?”
“What do you expect with all the false advertising.” I crossed my arms and tapped my fingers on them. “Totally false advertising.”
“Standard operating procedure.” Tris sniffed. “I could have told you that.”
There was nothing new to see here. “Who looks after the inmates?”
“Emmitt.” Mai led us through the cell block, between the empty cells to another door at the back. She turned to me with a grin. “Want to see what’s behind door number two?”
I clapped my hands in mock glee. “Ooh, yes, please.”
“Ah, mockery, let us turn you on your head.” She opened the door and pushed with all her might. The thick metal and wooden structure swung back with a creak, and a musty smell hit me.
“Whoa.” I stepped forward, suddenly excited. This was more like the vision in my head.
“Oh, God, the morbid gene strikes,” Henri said. “I’ll wait here.”
Tris hugged my arm tighter with her tail as we stepped into the darkness. The walls here weren’t plaster, they were dank stone, and the cells here were iron and steel.
Lanterns burned dimly ahead, and a figure hummed softly as it moved across the floor.
“Emmitt,” Mai called. “Come meet our newest recruit.”
The man that walked forward dragging a mop was most definitely not Emmet. He was small like the man from above stairs, but his hair was long and scraggly whereas the other guy’s had been neatly clipped and groomed. He was also dressed in a tatty shirt and shorts. His feet were bare and hairy, and I recognized him for what he was—a hobbit breed, one of the bastardized fey that lived on the mortal realm since the doorways to Faerie were sealed over a century ago. There were no pure fey anymore. Only the product of fey coupling with humans or supernaturals.
“Emmet and Emmitt are brothers,” Mai explained.
“Allo, miss,” Emmitt said with a frown. He leaned on the mop. “Ere’s Emmitt’s domain. Ya want anyfink, you ask old Emmitt.”
His tone was far from pleasant, and the words, which could have been an invitation, were more a warning. As in, do not fuck around down here, and you ask me before poking around. I knew my stuff, I’d done my reading on the supernatural races’ quirks, likes, and dislikes, and I knew just how to win over this grump.
“Thank you.” I glanced about. “This place is really clean. I can see you run a tight ship.”
His grin widened to epic proportions. “That’s mighty kind of ya.”
Real warmth. Bingo.
Mai hid a smile behind her hand.
“You need anything, you ask old Emmitt,” he said again, this time with real meaning. “This section ere is off-limits, ya see. The big bad goes here, and Emmitt watches over them. No big bad right now, but when there is, then no visits without the boss.”
He was referring to Jay, no doubt.
He moved off with his broom, sweeping it across the flagstones, and Mai jerked her head toward the exit.
“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house, and then we can grab your bags and get you settled in your rooms.”
Henri was waiting for us in the cream cell block. He backed up to let us out and then followed us out to the gray stone entranceway beyond. Mai locked the doors.
“How does he get out?” Tris asked. “The hobbit guy?”
“Hobbits don’t use doors,” Mai explained.
Ooh, that I hadn’t been aware of. “So, does he know what people need before they need it, like his brother?”
Mai shrugged. “No idea. Jay employed them both, so …”
Yeah, I’d have to ask him. “A prophet, a demon, two hobbits, and you?”
She gave me that same kitten smile. “Guess?”
I roved her up and down with my gaze. The red hair, the pointy chin, the slanted eyes, and whip-like wit. Oh, man, she couldn’t be. “You’re a kitsune?”
She took a bow. “The one and only.”
“You may as well be. How many of your kind are there now?”
Her mouth turned down. “Not nearly enough.”
Kitsunes were fox spirits that could, and often did, take human form, but make no doubt, they were far from human. No wonder she could run in four-inch heels; agility came with the package. But from what I’d learned, they could also be mischief-makers when the urge took them.
“Are you going to tell me how many tails you have?”
She laughed softly. “You never ask a lady her age.”
Or how powerful she was, it seemed. The more tails a kitsune had, the older and more powerful it was.
She led the way to the stairs, but my gaze snagged on the door to the left. “Hey, what’s in there?”
She glanced almost absently at the door and shrugged. “Storage.”
But there was something in her eyes that belied the casual response.
As we climbed up the steps, Henri leaned in to whisper in my ear. “She’s lying.”
Chapter Four
The tour lasted another half hour. Another small lounge with a TV, a large, cozy kitchen with a double stove which was apparently Emmet’s pride and joy. A library and study combined that contained every book you could imagine on the supernatural. A courtyard and several tiny storage rooms. There was more, a whole two wings’ worth, but the east wing was for us, and the west wing was Jay’s domain.
“It’s pretty unkempt,” Mai explained. “He’s done up a few rooms that he uses as living quarters; the rest needs a thorough clean and some serious repair work. There’s an awful draft too. But Jay prefers his privacy.”
The last was said in a warning tone. As if I was inclined to go wandering off in the night, gothic-horror-heroine style, to explore the mansion and look for ghosts.
Nope. No need. Ghosts tended to find me.
The east wing was warm and bright, and my quarters were clean and comfortable. Bed, closet, washroom, and even a window seat. There was a sofa set in the center of the room with a low side table by the arm, and a tiny writing desk shoved in a corner.
Tris leaped off my shoulder and began to explore. “Yes, yes. This will do nicely.”
“You’re next door, big guy.” Mai fluttered her lashes at Henri, and I resisted the urge to clench my teeth and hiss my golem.
The possessiveness came part and parcel with the bond that had been etched between us. The bond of master and construct. It ensured he could find me no matter where I was. It ensured that we were in tune. He was, after all, my daylight eyes.
Quashing the urge to snap at my kitsune colleague, I wandered over to the window that looked out over the moon-washed grounds. Grass and hedgerows and stone structures jutted up here and there. A shadow flitted between them, huge and hulking, and then the flash of embers cut the inky gloom like twin lasers.
The naked dude?
I turned to Mai. “Hey, I almost forgot to ask, who’s the guard?”
Mai frowned.
“Big, naked guy with eyes like fire?”
She made an ah face. “Of course, you must have met Killion. He let you in?”
“Man of few words.”
Tris snorted. “Man with huge—”
“Tris!”
Henri sighed. “I’ll go get the bags.” He slipped out of his glamour, and Mai blinked up at him in surprise.
Ha, see, just metal.
But then her lips curved in a sexy smile. “Nice.”
Henri smiled back. He fucking actually smiled back, metal lips and all. And then he walked out of the room, giving her a nice view of his metallic ass in his tight-fitted, custom-made jeans.
* * *
Mai left a few minutes later, probably to catch up to Henri and flirt some more. Tris climbed up onto the bed and curled up at the foot. The paperback was back, and she immersed herself in it.
There was a knock at the door, and then Henri entered carrying my suitcase under his arm. My hold-all dangled from his fingers. He dropped the cases on the floor.
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